


Ace in the Hole (or Smial, as The Case May Be)

by Spectral_Aspen



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Bilbo Baggins, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Bilbo Baggins don't need no dwarves or no wizards, Gary the Grey (pigeon), Gen, Introvert Bilbo Baggins, Solitary Bilbo Baggins, he will help while wishing everyone would go away, thank you very much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:07:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21541969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spectral_Aspen/pseuds/Spectral_Aspen
Summary: Bilbo Baggins is not lonely, quite the contrary. He is perfectly content to be on his own, and he doesn't need any wizards or dwarves coming in and mucking up his quiet lifestyle (thank you very much, there's the door).That being said, he is going to help them (because 13 dwarves and a wizard can't be more exhausting and relentless than all the gossips in the Shire, can they?).
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins & Solitude, Bilbo Baggins & books
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	1. A Little Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own anything recognizable, and to be honest even the unrecognizable stuff I doubt I own.
> 
> I started writing this after a very, very long day at work (I'm a nurse) wherein overtime was murder, people were exhausting, and I was standing in my kitchen in tears because now I had to cook something too? (Thankfully though, I live alone, so I didn't need to do anything else requiring a lot of energy like _talk to someone_.)
> 
> Anyways. 
> 
> I love happy fluffy stories where Bilbo meets the dwarrow/dwarves and everything generally devolves into sappy, fluffy, goodness.  
> I also wanted to read something wherein Bilbo Does Not Like People, and is helping the dwarrow very grudgingly and with every intention of heading back to the Shire as soon as Erebor is open to the dwarrow once more (because can you imagine? All those dwarrow underneath the same mountain? However do you avoid people if you're all stuck under a mountain with only one publicly accessible exit point?)

Sometimes being around other living beings was utterly exhausting.

Not merely in a superficial _I-don’t-like-spending-time-with-you-and-being-around-you-irks-me-and-makes-me-long-for-company-I-do-like_ sort of way, but in a deep, soul-felt _the-sound-of-you-breathing-is-like-thorns-sliding-against-my-skin-and-the-sound-of-your-movements-make-me-want-to-cease-to-exist_ sort of way.

Some days everything was fine, and Bilbo could talk to people about silly, inane things in one heartbeat and intense, serious things in the next with no problem at all, all day long.

Sometimes the laughter and chatter of dozens of other thinking, breathing creatures didn’t bother him a single bit, and he could smile and shop and have people over for tea with only a brief period to gather strength before-hand.

Sometimes he could pretend that other people weren’t ever, to put it simply, _too much._

Gandalf, and later the dwarrow (though mostly Gandalf), believed that Bilbo had been lonely, “wasting away in solitude” were possibly words that had been said in sad, pitying sort of way. They (still mostly Gandalf) also, apparently, believed that what Bilbo really needed was to be around a small group of people at all times of day, every day, for the next few months, without a single break from any of them ever.

This was unacceptable.

Sadly, it was also (at least somewhat) unavoidable.

The problem arose when Bilbo had been sitting quietly on his smoking bench, enjoying the sun, the slight breeze, and the absence of people nearby; it was currently elevenses, and everybody else was inside a smial (maybe their own, maybe a friend's or family member's) eating with said friends and family and generally being insufferably _loud_ and _social._

Bilbo had a plan for the day, and it involved doing precisely nothing out of the ordinary or involving other living beings; he truly deserved it considering yesterday had been a rent day and he had been forced to interact with other people in an unpleasant manner from just before sun-rise to nearly the end of sun-set without pause (gathering and receiving money from others was never a pleasant task).

He had struggled that previous day, feeling the murmurs of his fellow hobbits sliding across his skin and leaving stronger and stronger shivers in their wake as the rent-gathering wore ever onwards. Once everyone that neede to pay rent had been by to drop it off evening had arrives and Bilbo had sat in his living room with all but one of the lights out and the windows all closed, curled up in his favourite armchair with a simple but hearty supper and some hot chocolate within easy reach.

That had been blissful.

The next morning had, initially, been a good one. All of the rent was collected, so there was no need to plan for that for at least a few weeks. His pantry was full, so a trip to the market was not in order. He had recently bought some books on elvish history and poetry, so there would be no shortage of lovely things to read.

Then Gandalf showed up, starting the rapid downward spiral of Bilbo’s day with a cloud of smoke to the face.

Now, Bilbo certainly remembered Gandalf. He remembered every person who was difficult to predict that he suspected he might have to interact with at some point in the future, so that he would be better prepared to deal with them quickly (and escape their company even more quickly) when they next met.

Gandalf, however, stood out for Bilbo, and not just because of his ridiculous height or odd appearance amongst a crown of hobbits.

After Belladonna and Bungo died Bilbo had sent Gandalf a letter, one of the few he’d ever sent for non-business reasons, via homing/carrier pigeon.

The pigeon in question (named Gary the Grey in Bilbo’s fauntling years) had been gifted to Belladonna after she’d gone with Gandalf to Rivendell in her youth, and the wizard had informed her (and from her the knowledge passed to Bilbo) that Gary was a special bird that would always be able to find Gandalf regardless of where he was in Middle-Earth. Gary would not, however, be able to return to Belladonna, as his _home_ was not her, but Gandalf.

Gandalf had been informed of both Belladonna’s marriage and pregnancy this way, and later on it had been how he learned (too little too late for many) of the Fell Winter. Each time Gary the Grey was sent out he had later returned with an equally grey Gandalf in tow, at which point he had been given back to Belladonna for future use.

Gary had been sent to inform Gandalf of Bungo and Belladonna’s passing, giving him the date of their funeral. Bilbo had sent Garry off, tear-stained parchment attached to his scrawny little leg, and never seen him again. Nor, for that matter, had he seen Gandalf again until this very moment in time.

Not at all prepared for (or really wishing to) interact with the wizard, Bilbo focused on his pipe.

Then he uttered the most generic, bland, neutral, unimaginative greeting that he could think of off the top of his head in the hopes that Gandalf would leave him alone.

“Good morning.”

And the moment those words left his mouth, Bilbo saw a _look_ in the wizard’s eyes (generally indescribable, but Bilbo thought that _ominous_ fit fairly well), and he just knew that his day was going to end terribly.

He was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gary the Grey pigeon is a magical homing/carrier pigeon who I created because it always bothered me that Belladonna would have no way to reliably contact Gandalf if she needed to (and yes, he could "arrive precisely when he means to" very conveniently at every important instance in her life and say _because magic_ , but I like Gary and I think that I will keep him. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	2. So it Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin does not make a very good first impression. He doesn't say much, but then, he doesn't really need to.

Generally speaking, Bilbo preferred to be introduced to new people via a friend or family member. One could learn a lot about someone they had just met if they were able to observe the manner in which introductions were made, and how each person reacted to said introduction.

For example, Bilbo could always remember being overwhelmed but pleased whenever he was brought to The Great Smials in Tuckborough for his oddly numbered birthdays and was introduced to _yet another_ cousin or niece or nephew. The Tooks were loud, boisterous, and forever well-intentioned towards family. Bungo always stood out a bit amongst them, but they welcomed him into their hearts and home. Bilbo could remember lots of laughter and great, squeezing hugs that, on certain days, felt warm and solid and (shockingly) _nice._

Bilbo could also remember, however, the respectable evenly numbered birthdays he had endured in Hobbiton. Introductions to family were fun as well, but a much more subdued type of fun that didn’t involve battle cries, small wooden swords, or intricate plans to steal the most recently baked cookie or pie. Baggins family introductions and parties were filled with smiles and hugs as well, but also with side glances and whispers at Belladonna and Bilbo; at her on occasions as seemingly insignificant (to Bilbo at least) as whenever she was fed up with such formal respectability and wore _pants*_ _,_ and at Bilbo whenever he would dare to sit in Bungo’s lap with a book and ignore everyone around him (especially the other children). The Baggins family was full of love, of course, but it was a colder and more subtle type of love. For Belladonna and Bilbo, who enjoyed adventures and solitude respectively, it was a love that was much harder to feel and rely on with their entire being.

All that being said, Bilbo preferred introductions when being confronted with new people.

What he _absolutely did not_ prefer was for strange and terrifying dwarves to bang on _his_ door and muscle their way into _his_ home before sitting down in _his_ chair and eating _his_ dinner without even a single offer (perhaps, without even a single _thought)_ to share.

Bilbo decided, then and there, that he very much did _not_ like this dwarf. Anybody who intruded on his solitude unannounced was to be looked upon poorly, but to go beyond intruding and straight to _invading?_ That was unacceptable.

Hopefully he would leave soon.

…

He did not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *It's not that hobbit ladies cannot wear pants, but I think they would be mostly reserved for work, like farming, gardening, crafting etc. and considered very un-respectable in a setting like a family party or meeting (such as Bilbo's birthdays among the Baggins family in Hobbiton).
> 
> Let me know what your thoughts are? Or if you've noticed any grammatical errors! I rather dislike those.


	3. On the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so we set off on the road, to Bywater, Bree, and Beyond _(yay alliteration)._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing and nothing owns me (except for possibly my bank, because slavery is illegal and student debt is not).

The less that is said of that horrible evening (privately dubbed _The Dwarven Invasion)_ the better. Even thinking back on everything that had happened that night made Bilbo’s shoulders curl inwards, made his ears ring with the sound of shouting and laughter, and made his skin _crawl_ at the thought of how many times he had been bumped and pushed and shoved by beings he did not know.

Bilbo mostly rode beside Gandalf, which meant to the front(ish) of the train of ponies slowly meandering their way along the Great East Road, within a stone’s-throw of The Water, towards the Brandywine Bridge, Bree, and beyond.

The pony hair kept making Bilbo sneeze, and that in turn made the dwarves look at him, and that again in turn made Bilbo nervous, which caused him to breath more quickly, resulting in the inhalation of more pony hair. After that? Another sneeze; and so the horrible cycle began again.

Gandalf, for some reason, found everything to be jolly and amusing, and sat atop his large horse smoking away at his unusually long pipe, making smoke-butterflies that flit every which-way about his head.

The dwarves seemed either derisive or uncaring of Bilbo’s presence, which, other than their _looks_ causing him anxiety, was actually preferable because it meant that nobody was trying to _talk_ to Bilbo.

 _Talking_ meant _interacting,_ and that was something that Bilbo did not have the energy for at this point. Between his horribly long rent-day, his ruined day of rest (re: _The Dwarven Invasion),_ and his terrible night of sleep, Bilbo would not have been able to find the will to talk to even Hamfast, his lovely gardener who always seemed to know when to _leave him alone,_ and who was Bilbo’s favourite friend in all of Hobbiton and, quite possibly, the Shire (though, as his only other true friend in Hobbiton was Bell, Hamfast’s wife, it was not much of a competition).

In the evenings Gandalf helped Bilbo re-learn how to unsaddle his pony, wipe them down, and get a bedroll ready. Bilbo had, of course, learned all of these things back when he was but a tiny fauntling trying (and only partially failing) to hide in all of the quiet, forgotten corners of The Great Smials of Tuckborough.

Bilbo vaguely remembers one time Gandalf visited Tuckborough (but mostly Belladonna) and was dragged into a game Belladonna had fondly called _Bilbo Baiting,_ which was really less of a game and more of a long walk in which she would wander the halls with a large slice of Bilbo’s current favourite pie (it changed frequently) and call his name, patiently waiting to see how long it took him to come out from whichever hole or crevice he had managed to hide himself in. On the occasion that Gandalf was there, Bilbo’s cousin Sigismond Took* (Siggy for short), had decided to see if he could pretend to be Bilbo himself and trick Belladonna into giving _him_ the piece of pie instead of Bilbo.

This ended in Siggy nearly getting bowled over by a jealous Jago Boffin**, who had been enlisted by Bilbo to order to defend the pie slice in exchange for some of Bilbos pudding at supper, and kept Bilbo from being forced to interact with Siggy, Gandalf, or anyone other than Jago (who was alright because he was four whole years younger than Bilbo and wanted to learn to hide like he did, and thus worshipped the ground Bilbo walked on).

Gandalf had looked amused at the time, but now Bilbo wonders if the wizard didn’t plot to ambush Bilbo with homeless dwarves and guilt him into becoming a Royal Burglar because of that incident. Perhaps he was so old that he merely remembered trying (and failing) to find Bilbo within the depths of the most crowded and populated smial in the entirety of the Shire, and decided that Bilbo would clearly be excellent at hiding from other (much larger and more dangerous) beings within the depths of a dragon-infested mountain after trekking across what seemed like the entirety of Middle Earth.

Bilbo certainly hoped not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sigismond is not an OC, he is Bilbo’s cousin and was born in the same year as Bilbo was (TA 2890/SR 1290) and I found him here:   
>  <https://lotr.fandom.com/wiki/Sigismond_Took>
> 
> **Jago Boffin is also not an OC and is Bilbo’s cousin. He was born (as mentioned) four years after Siggy and Bilbo (TA 2894/SR 1294) and I found him here:   
>  <https://lotr.fandom.com/wiki/Jago_Boffin>
> 
> Let me know your thoughts! I appreciate all of them :)


	4. Bree-Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prancing Pony has been reached (for better or for worse).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing, including the maps I've included at the end that I used for research.
> 
> Also, I'm not going to try to type out anyones' accents, because I'd likely do a terrible job and I'd hate to spoil the narrative for anyone reading.

There was a reason Bilbo had never been to Bree, and it wasn’t because it was so far from Hobbiton. He had actually walked around Bree, east and then north, to Staddle, Combe, and Archet. Of the three smaller towns he had actually only visited Staddle, as the other two were filled with too many men and too few hobbits.

Bree though? He had never explored Bree, nor had he ever wished to. Hobbits were overwhelming enough, but men? With their oddly stretched bodies and disregard for properly-sized folk? They were _far too much._ Gandalf, though tall, resembled more of a large sack with long sleeves, unbrushed hair, and a pointy hat than anything else, and Bilbo rarely was bombarded with such _largeness_ as he was whenever in a town of men.

Scowling to himself as he was nearly hip-checked, kicked, kneed in the face, trod-upon, spun-around, and knocked-over, Bilbo did his best to follow closely behind the dwarves in the hopes that the Bree-Folk would be less likely to knock such a heavily armed and unfriendly looking individual over (and thus, him).

Eventually the group followed Gandalf and Thorin into a large building with a rearing pony on a sign out front. Bilbo had a single moment to be pleased that he would get an actual bed to sleep on before he actually made it inside.

The wall of heat, made worse by the thick musk of sweat and alcohol that hung in the air like a cloud of misery and horror, that hit Bilbo as he stepped through the doorway made him dizzy (as if the summer-heat outside wasn't bad enough). He immediately stepped to the side of the doorway and out of the way of anyone else entering or exiting so that he could gather his strength without needing to stay quite as alert.

Slowly Bilbo found himself feeling the urge to vomit and/or pass-out fade, and then he could begin to focus on ignoring the horribly loud cacophony that inevitably occurred when such large groups of people gathered together to eat and drink.

Why would anyone willingly come to such a place?

Eventually Bilbo felt well enough to begin scanning the mass of men's legs, stools, chairs, and tables for his company. Just his luck, they has set up on the opposite side of the room.

Fortunately, Bilbo had spent his entire life avoiding people, and while it was much more dangerous to dodge around people when they were too tall to even notice he existed such a fact also meant that none of the big-folk would be attempting to talk to him.

It took a few minutes, but Bilbo eventually made his way over to the company, and sat in the open chair between Nori and Bofur. Bilbo found himself leaning slightly towards Bofur, as he kept almost getting smacked in the face by Nori’s incredibly voluminous hairstyle as the dwarf twisted and gestured to whomever was sitting on his other side.

“That was some good sneaking you did to get over here Master Baggins.”

Bilbo looked over at Bofur, wondering if Hobbit body language was vastly different from the of Dwarves, as he was fairly certain he did not look open to conversation.

“Hobbits are naturally small and quiet, Master Bofur, and Men-Folk are naturally large and loud. I would hardly call it sneaking when you’re too short to be noticed.”

Bofur chuckled and raised his pint towards Bilbo (as if that was supposed to mean something?). "You raise a good point, little Master."

Before Bilbo could so much as scowl over being called 'little Master' (never mind that he'd brought up being short first) a brush against his ear gave away Nori’s turn towards Bilbo and Bofur. The dwarf looked thoughtful as he stared down at Bilbo.

Just when Bilbo was starting to feel like he would start twitching if he maintained eye-contact with Nori any longer, the dwarf spoke.

“You can pick a lot of pockets when nobody notices you, you know.”

Then he winked knowingly at Bofur (for reasons unknown) and knocked his shoulder against Bilbo’s before turning back to his conversation with whomever was on his other side.

Bilbo shuddered a little. It has been a very, very long time since anybody touched him, and he was very certain he didn’t like the sensation.

The sooner dinner got here the better, because it meant that he could go up to a proper bed and sleep that much faster.

Bilbo didn’t even want to think about what tomorrow would bring, much less the rest of the journey in close proximity with these dwarves. If, after less than a week, they were already trying to _talk_ to him and do horribly invasive things like _touch_ him, how comfortable with invading his space would they get after a few months together?

That was a future best left ignored for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Shire Map:
> 
> <https://www.deviantart.com/maximeplasse/art/The-Shire-Middle-Earth-536812116>
> 
> Hobbiton -> Bree = 120 miles = 60 hours walking at 2 miles/hour (because of such short Hobbit legs), and guessing 7-8 hours of walking per day means 7-9 days (roughly) of walking, and that’s assuming a steady pace and no long stretches spent chatting with family. With ponies, at a walking pace of 3 miles per hour (  
>  <http://www.speedofanimals.com/animals/horse> but slowed a little because ponies are slightly shorter), would take approx. 40 hours to get to Bree, and if the days are 8 hours long no breaks it would take 5 days to get to Bree.
> 
> <https://www.geek.com/geek-cetera/how-far-did-frodo-and-sam-actually-walk-in-lord-of-the-rings-1623317/>
> 
> Hobbiton -> Tuckborough = 14 miles = 7 hours walking at 2 miles/hour so possible in one day
> 
> Bag End to main Hobbiton = 1-2 miles? = 30 minutes – 1 hour?
> 
> <http://www.halloftimelibrary.com/shireofthehobbits/geography/shireguide2.htm#htt>
> 
> <http://www.glyphweb.com/arda/s/shire.html>


	5. Nori is Not Sneaky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori is Not Sneaky.  
> Bilbo is Not Amused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Horribly sorry for the delay in posting. Things are... hectic. Also, my writing style here may have changed slightly, but honestly gratuitous brackets and asides is my favourite kind of writing and I was happy to get back to it.

It turns out that one anti-social hobbit, when lured into accompanying a gaggle of dwarrow cross-country, could expect to maintain his extensive personal boundaries for approximately one week.

Nori was the first, and in what Bilbo was learning was typical Nori fashion, the dwarf was surprisingly sneaky and stealthy despite his very attention grabbing hairstyle.

For some reason known only to Nori (because nobody, not even Nori's brothers knew exactly what was going on) the dwarf had apparently decided that Bilbo was now his Apprentice in the Art of Thievery (or something). 

No, Bilbo did not agree to this terrible thing, and no, apparently nobody cared.

The Status Quo was being disrupted with all the glee that a suspicious, shifty, star-haired criminal dwarf could conceivably pretend he wasn't feeling, and Bilbo Did Not Like This.

Not at all.

Nori was under the (very much mistaken) impression that Bilbo needed to learn how to pickpocket people, and that they would (apparently) "move forwards from there" (not that anyone explained what or where "forwards" meant in this particular scenario). 

What Nori, and apparently the rest of the dwarves and Gandalf, seemed to believe was that Bilbo was some helpless little waif who had never done anything so dastardly as _pickpocket somebody_ in his entire life. 

Bilbo had grown up trying to hide from fauntlings and his parents, and thus was very well versed in planning escape routes, having backup plans, and deceiving people with his small size and cuteness. Bilbo was also a young lad when the Fell Winter occured (only 21 he was) and so also knew that he could sneak and murder various creatures (from rabbits to wolves to orcs) when the situation called for it. He had learned to defend himself in his youth amidst his Took cousins, had relearned the skills during that winter, and had kept them up ever since.

Partially so he could defend himself, and partially because all of the "proper hobbits" were less likely to want to be seen with him if he both looked capable of murder and actually was capable of murder.

(On his Bad Days, Bilbo sometimes looked dangerous enough that he could deter his fellow hobbits from coming over for tea just by sitting on his front step and glaring at anyone who so much as looked at his front gate.)

Bilbo was very tempted to knock Nori off his pony onto his arse after stealing all the wretched dwarf’s lockpicking gear, but was worried that it would invite future problems like _conversation_ that he didn't want to deal with. At least right now nobody thought Nori would succeed in whatever his educational quest was, and still thought Bilbo was too boring and useless to be worth talking to.

So Nori was subtly kept from thieving anything Bilbo really cared about (such as the handkerchiefs he bought in Bree) and he refrained from doing anything to draw attention (like knock Nori on his arse) in the hopes that people would just _leave him alone dammit_ , and while this seemed to work for almost the entire company Nori was only getting more and more curious about Bilbo. Apparently Nori had made it a goal of his to nick one of Bilbo's precious new handkerchiefs, and his repeated failures were only making the ridiculous dwarf more interested in "teaching" Bilbo things.

Bilbo was almost tempted to let Nori take one of his handkerchiefs, just to see what happened, but refrained because he didn't know what the dwarf would do with it and those handkerchiefs were precious commodities as far as Bilbo was concerned (and anyone who really wanted one should have thought of that in Bree).

So far Nori had not attempted to directly converse with Bilbo, but it was only a matter of time. Bilbo was not looking forward to the day that eventually happened. He had been preparing for it since the dwarf spoke to him in Bree, but Bilbo had found that, sometimes, all the preparation in the world could not prepare him for the utter strangeness and complexity of other sentient beings and their social expectations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?
> 
> I also wanted to say thank you to [rho_nin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rho_nin/pseuds/rho_nin) and [the_eagles_are_coming](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_eagles_are_coming/pseuds/the_eagles_are_coming) for their lovely comments. Tbh, I only recently came back to this fic and noticed them, but I wiggled about with joy like a happy little landed fish where I stood. Seriously, I could have floated away I was so filled with glee. (On a related note, is it weird to reply to a comment six or seven months later?)

**Author's Note:**

> This will be expanded on slowly, for I am _very slow_ and also _very inconsistent and terrible_ at actually updating things! I do have a few little chapters written though, and I will post them day-by-day (or whenever I remember to).


End file.
